


Living In Hell

by Wolfcry22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome Dean Winchester, Brotherly Affection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fever, Fever Dreams, Gen, Hallucinations, Nightmares, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Has Mental Health Issues, Sam Winchester Has PTSD, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, Sam Winchester Whump, Sick Character, Sick Sam Winchester, Sickfic, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26114425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfcry22/pseuds/Wolfcry22
Summary: Sam has gone through a lot in the last few years. Normally he can deal with it until the dreaded fever dreams strike. Although hesitant to become sick himself and succumb to the same fate, Dean can’t just let his brother suffer without at least trying to ease his suffering.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 67





	Living In Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Mild warning for possibly triggering PTSD scenarios and panic attacks. Sick Sam and caring Dean fluff to go around.

"Dude, are you sure that you're feeling alright?”

Sam rolled his eyes as he turned to gaze at his brother. "I'm fine, Dean, okay? It's just a headache. I get them all the time."

"I thought that they stopped along with the visions and stuff," Dean asked as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Just hearing his brother talk about their past like this was enough to make him squirm. They had been through a lot, but when it first started, it had freaked Dean out the most. He couldn't help but remember when his father had told him that he might have to kill Sam. That had been one of the scariest things that he had ever heard.

Sam shrugged. "Well, they've become fewer and farther between, but I still get them sometimes. It doesn't matter! How much longer until we stop?"

"A few hours maybe," answered Dean as he stared at the open road that stretched in front of them. "I'd like to make it to Maine before we stop. We have that case that I'd like to get on tomorrow if you're feeling up to it."

Sam gnawed at his lower lip. "I'm feeling fine, Dean. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried about you as much as I'm worried about me," Dean began with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

However, there was seriousness behind his joking around. Ever since either of them had had an experience with hell it had been different. Anytime either of them were sick, the fever would always hit them the hardest. When they were delirious they would have horrible hallucinations and flashbacks. For either of them it was terrible. 

"Yeah, yeah," mumbled Sam as he leaned against the seat and closed his eyes.

A few hours later, the Impala pulled up in front of a motel and parked. Sam rolled over in the seat, struggling to swallow the minor irritation that he felt in the back of his throat. When he rolled, his head slid from the headrest and he immediately jolted himself awake. He blinked his eyes in surprise before he realized exactly where they were.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty, we're here," Dean announced as he smiled over at Sam. "You ready to sleep in a bed? I feel like we've been in the car for days."

Sam nodded vigorously, undoing his seatbelt and flinging open the passenger door. He headed into the back seat and grabbed his duffle while Dean did the same. The two of them headed into the motel room and Sam quickly threw his duffle on the bed closes to the door. He sat down and rummaged through it, trying to find something comfortable and warm to wear. For some odd reason he was freezing despite it being the end of summer.

"You want first shower," Dean offered as he saw Sam keep looking to the bathroom.

"Yeah, okay," answered Sam as he grabbed the clothes that he was going to wear, which consisted of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and trudged toward the tiny motel bathroom. "Thanks, Dean."

"Don't mention it," Dean began as he turned on the TV and hoped that there was something halfway decent on. He finally decided on an old 80's action movie.

He suddenly heard the sound of coughing coming from the bathroom. He let out a groan as he fell backwards and rested his head on the pillow. "He is so getting sick. Damnit!"

Dean knew that he couldn't blame Sam for it. It wasn't like he purposely tried to get sick. If anything Sam's fever induced nightmares were worse than his. He had an entire life in the Cage to worry about, but that didn't mean that Dean didn't have his own Hell to worry about, literally. In an ideal world neither one of them would ever get sick, but that wasn't how the world worked out.

The coughing continued until he heard the shower turn on. The water pressure was terrible and the walls paper thin. He could hear ever sniffle and snort from his brother. He wasn't convinced that he was totally sick yet, but he could tell that it was coming like a freight train. However, Dean just hoped that maybe if they ignored it, then it wouldn't be as bad as he thought.

"ITCSHsh! ITCshshsh! ITsshsHShh!"

Dean sighed as he turned up the volume on the TV. He may have to understand that it was coming, but he really didn't want to face it. He needed a few days to prepare, not only for him, but Sam too. Sam needed heavy doses of medication to make him sleep and stay asleep while Dean needed every precaution so that he didn't catch this. Yep, this was going to be interesting.

It was only a few minutes later when Sam staggered from the bathroom. He looked like he had been run over by a truck and then put in a broiler. He trembled, which was strange considering that Sam had just come from taking a warm shower. Dean could tell that it was in fever. He could see the goosebumps on his arms and the sweat that collected on his forehead. Sam would never admit it, but he was probably feeling the slight uncomfortableness deep within his muscles that a fever brought with it.

"Hey, Sammy, you good," asked Dean with a small smile.

Sam headed to the bed almost automatically without answering. He sat down and reached for his computer, struggling to clear his throat in the process without coughing. A small drip of mucus hung from his nose, but he seemed almost completely oblivious of it. Dean didn't mention it even though he was starting to feel a little uncomfortable himself.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Dean. why do you keep asking that," Sam asked in frustration.

Dean threw up his hands. "Yep, yep, sorry, Sammy. I forgot how sensitive you can be," he joked, trying to elicit some sort of reaction from his brother. Usually, if he he pushed him, he would fight back and then they would end up laughing at the playful banter exchanged. That wasn't the case.

Sam sighed heavily as he pulled the computer closer to his chest and leaned forward to read what was on the screen. He sniffled and that was enough for Dean. He knew that it was going to be a rough night, no matter what Sam said or tried to convince him otherwise.

Dean knew that there was no getting anything out of Sam anymore. He had to let him rest for at least as long as he could. That was fine in Dean's mind. He just had to stay awake long enough to make sure that Sam's fevered dreams didn't start up again, even though he knew it was inevitable. 

The only thing Dean could do was relax and prepare for what was coming.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean finally dozed off around 1 a.m until he noticed strange whimpering coming from the bed beside him. He turned and saw Sam starting to wither in fear and fever. Sweat clung to his upper lip while his hair was matted. He thrashed around in his sleep as his mouth parted as he started to let out pleas.

"No, no! Please! You can't do this to me! I won't do it! Leave me alone!"

Sam's cries were turning into desperate screams quicker than Dean could process it in his sluggish state. The last thing that Dean needed was for them to be kicked out of the motel. If they did, then they would have to sleep in the Impala and that was not happening.

Dean moaned when he realized that he was going to have to get close enough to Sam to actually wake him up and calm him down. That meant increased exposure to Sam's germs. It hadn't bothered him when they were little, but now that they both knew what happened during fever hallucinations, they had both been more careful. However, Dean still cared for Sam's wellbeing more than him own and they needed this motel. He was going to have to risk exposure to help him.

"Sam," whispered Dean as he stretched out a hand and shook Sam's shoulder so that Sam's head lifted and hit against the headrest.

Sam didn't stir.

"Come on, Sammy. You're scaring me," chided Dean as he rested a hand against the back of his forehead. He felt the burning heat pulse from Sam’s clammy skin.

Dean snapped his fingers when he realized what to do. "Stay right there, Sammy. I'll be right back," he reassured as he rushed over to his duffle and rummaged around frantically. He finally found the first aid kit and pulled bandages and Tylenol and other things out that they didn't need. He finally found an ear thermometer and mentally celebrated.

"Okay, Sammy. I think that this should help," announced Dean as he walked over. They had gotten the ear thermometer when they realized that when their fevers were this high they wouldn't listen to anything being put in their mouth. The ear one was safer and easier for the both of them.

Dean stuck the end into Sam's ear. Sam stayed where he was, still slightly mumbling. When he was finished, Dean pulled it out and read the digital message. 103.7 That was much too high for Dean's liking. He was tempted to take Sam to the hospital, but there were even sicker people there. What if Sam caught something worse there? No. They had to stay where they were.

"Okay, Sam. Let's get you cooled down," Dean told him as he bounded over to the bathroom. He started to wet washcloths, towels, and anything else that he could get his hands on. He wished that they had ice, but ice you had to pay for outside, and they didn't have time for that. If Sam's temperature raised much more, then they were going to have to take more desperate measures.

Suddenly, Dean heard a thud. He grabbed the sopping towels and headed out of the bathroom. He suddenly froze when he saw Sam with a knife clamped firmly in his hand. He looked around with eyes wild. He panted heavily, free hand rubbing along the underside of his streaming nostrils, his eyes haunted. It was as if he was being hunted.

"Sammy?"

"Shut up!" He hung his head as a cough ripped from him. He lifted a hand and rubbed at his red eyes. "Leave me alone! I won't do what you ask. Stop hurting me."

Sam's antagonizing cries left holes in Dean's heart. Just the thought that his brother had actually gone through this was almost unbearable. He hung his head to make himself look less threatening to his brother, but stayed alert. Sam wasn't thinking clearly and right now it appeared that Sam thought that Dean was Lucifer.

"Sammy, it's me. It's Dean. You know who I am," Dean told him as he set the towels on the bed and lifted his hands in a show of surrender.

Sam shook his head. "N-No! Dean is on earth. I-I'm in Hell," he gagged as he started to cough once more. It shook his entire frame, causing his hand with the knife to wave manically.

Dean shook his head madly, throwing his hands and waved them abruptly. "We are on earth. None of this is real, Sam. I promise. It's just a hallucination because of your high fever.”

Sam wasn't listening. He looked around before he jabbed the knife in the air. He drew it back, surprised that there was nothing on the knife. As he took a closer look, he suddenly buckled forward with loud and uncontrollable sneezes.

"ISCSHshsh! ITCSHsHsh! ITCshshshSHSH!"

"Bless you, Sammy," whispered Dean as Sam ran the hand with the knife in it under his streaming nose. He breathed loudly through his mouth with his legs starting to become wobbly. 

Sam looked up. "Sabby?"

"That's right. Who calls you that? Me, huh? Dean, your brother. I always call you Sammy and you hate it," Dean reminded him with amusement gleaming in his eyes.

Sam coughed painfully, raising a hand to his throat, gripping it tightly, while he cringed in pain. "Deadn?"

"That's exactly right. Now, how about you give me that knife and then blow your nose. You sound as clogged as a drain," Dean chuckled.

Sam looked at the knife in his hand and turned it around, glassy eyes taking in the weapon in interest. He gritted his teeth together and Dean wasn't sure what to make of that gesture.

"Sammy, please. We can tuck you into bed real nice and you'll be fine. Okay, you'll be fine," Dean whispered reassuringly.

"ITCSHsh! ITShsh! ITCshsSH!"

"Come on. I know that you're tired from all of this. Just let me help," Dean pleaded as he inched closer and closer to Sam. His hands were stretched out, palms up, trying to keep the fear from his eyes. If Sam saw his fear then he would strike just like the hunter he was. It was a flight or fight instinct that Dean suddenly wished that Sam didn't have.

"Sammy," Dean tried once more as he smiled kindly at his brother. "I'm right here, Sammy. Let me help you."

Sam turned the knife over and handed it over to Dean albeit reluctantly. Dean picked the knife and threw it on his bed, wanting that item as far away from his hallucinating brother as possible. He then came over to his brother and caught him just as he buckled forward. Dean grunted, arms braced around Sam to keep him from falling as he pulled him over to his bed. His brother may be large and cumbersome, but he had lost a lot of weight in the past few months. Dean had tried not to comment on it when he first noticed it, yet now Dean feared he couldn’t turn a blind eye to it. He made a mental note to bring this up to Sam when he was feeling better.

He helped Sam lay down before he headed into the bathroom and brought out a roll of toilet paper. He carried it over to his brother and pulled off a small length. He handed it over to Sam and Sam halfheartedly blew his nose. Once he was finished, his arm fell forward limply at his side, and sighed heavily as he looked over at Dean with sadness brimming in his eyes.

"Hey, what's wrong," Dean asked in alarm.

Sam turned his head so that he was almost looking right through Dean. Dean looked to where Sam was looking, but he noticed that there was nothing there. He stifled a groan as he twisted back to his brother. "Do you see Lucifer?"

Sam gnawed at his lips before nodding slowly. He closed his eyes and forced his hands over his ears. "Stop it. Stop it! Stop it!"

"Shhh, shhh," chided Dean as he jumped onto the bed beside Sam to try and calm him down. "He's not here. It's just you and me. He's not real."

"Not real," echoed Sam before he let out a breathy cough against Dean's shoulder.

Dean cringed and it took all of his kindness not to snap at his brother or run away from his him. "Yeah, Sammy. Not real. Now, how about you get some rest?”

"M'stay," mumbled Sam hopefully as he looked up to his brother, sniffling hard.

There was a deep sigh as Dean stretched out a hand and squeezed Sam's shoulder. "Sure, Sammy. I'll stay if you want me too. But, keep you snot to yourself, okay?"

"M'okay."

Sam visibly relaxed as he slumped against Dean's shoulder for comfort. Dean looked down and felt his entire body squirm inside his skin. Sam, his sick brother, was breathing on him and coughing on him. There was no doubt that he would eventually sneeze on him as well. 

But, Sam was his brother and Sam was hurting. He couldn't just leave him when he knew that Sam wouldn't leave him if the role was reversed. For now he was just going to suck it up because that was what he had always done and that was what he was going to do. He would always care for Sammy, no matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy and are staying safe and healthy!


End file.
